


As the French Do

by exarite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Barebacking, Dubious Consent, Harry cheats on Draco with Tom, Infidelity, Just the Tip, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seduction, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Coercion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-02-19
Packaged: 2019-10-31 16:38:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17853260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarite/pseuds/exarite
Summary: Upset at being abandoned, Harry goes out to the balcony to brood. A handsome stranger joins him.::"You're attracted to me," Tom repeats. He leans away, and Harry lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "I can tell."Harry's mouth opens to retort and then he quickly closes it. He narrows his eyes. "You're pretty full of yourself, aren't you?""It's true though, isn't it?" Tom smirks. His posture turns languid now, his lean body stretching into a long line over the balcony. "Don't lie, Harry."The way he says Harry’s name is enough to make Harry squirm."I have a boyfriend, thanks," Harry deflects, and Tom's smirk widens."That isn't a no," he says.





	As the French Do

**Author's Note:**

> dubcon via sexual coercion and seduction !! :)

Harry leans over the balcony, the smooth stone hard against his elbows as he gazes out into the immaculately manicured gardens of Malfoy Manor. Harry didn't know what he had expected when Draco had invited him to his company's annual Yule party, but standing here now, alone, Harry isn't even the slightest bit surprised. He's bitter, but only a little. He's already far too used to this already, with him, alone, and Draco, out currying favor with his coworkers and other rich influential people. It's nothing new.

He broods by himself, wallowing in silence until the door to the balcony area opens.

"Oh," someone says. Harry turns his head, looking up, and his eyes meet with the stranger's shadowed face. Harry's lips pull into a frown, but it freezes on his face when the other man steps forward, the light from the moon finally illuminating his features.

His very _handsome_ features, Harry quickly notices.

"Oh," Harry echoes. He swallows, his mouth dry, and hurriedly looks away, back to the safe view of the gardens.

"I apologize," the stranger says. "I thought this balcony was empty."

Harry should tell him to leave. He came out here to be alone, to mope. He didn't come here to talk to random strangers, no matter how devastatingly handsome they happen to be.

"It's fine," he says instead of any of that. "Big enough for the both of us."

He doesn't look at the other man when he steps closer, not even when the stranger is standing right beside him, copying Harry by leaning on the balcony as well. The heat of his body, the feel of his arm so close to Harry's, it makes him tense, but he doesn't dare look up. Harry doesn't know what's going to come out of his mouth if he does.

"My name is Tom," the stranger finally volunteers, breaking the silence between them. Harry wants to say he doesn't care, but then he'd be lying.

He hesitates, his jaw working, before he finally looks up. He isn't prepared. Harry's words stall in his mouth and he stares, his lips parted and slack.

"I..." Harry says dumbly. Tom's lips quirk up into an amused smile, and Harry's eyes dart down towards them before he looks back up. That brief view of Tom from earlier is nothing compared to the sight of him close up, near enough that Harry could see the deep burgundy of his eyes, the strong line of his jaw. The way his coiffed hair falls perfectly over his face. Older than Harry by what must be more than a few years, but distinguished and still very, _very_ attractive.

"Harry," he finally manages to croak out. "My name is Harry."

The amused smile on Tom's face falters, then it quickly comes back, sly now. He leans in, his eyes narrowing, and Harry instinctively leans away, his heart stuttering in its chest at the sudden proximity.

"You're attracted to me," Tom notes, matter of fact. He says it the same way anyone else would comment upon the weather.

"What?" Harry's mouth gapes, and he stares up in shock. "Excuse me?"

"You're attracted to me," Tom repeats. He leans away, and Harry lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. "I can tell."

Harry's mouth opens to retort and then he quickly closes it. He narrows his eyes. "You're pretty full of yourself, aren't you?"

"It's true though, isn't it?" Tom smirks. His posture turns languid now, his lean body stretching into a long line over the balcony. "Don't lie, _Harry_."

The way he says Harry’s name is enough to make Harry squirm.

"I have a boyfriend, thanks," Harry deflects, and Tom's smirk widens.

"That isn't a no," he says.

Harry's face heats, with embarrassment, with anger, he doesn't quite know. He looks away.

"Does your boyfriend know you're out here alone, talking to strange attractive men?" Tom asks. His teasing tone borders on mocking, and Harry’s lips thin.

"Probably hasn't even noticed I'm gone," he says. He isn't bitter, really.

"A shame," Tom murmurs. "Someone like you deserves to be treasured."

Harry's eyebrows raise and he coughs delicately. "You're being awfully forward." Even as he says this, Harry can't help but feel flattered. Pretty words from a handsome man are dangerous things.

"If I wanted to be forward, I would have asked for a kiss," Tom says.

"I would have said no," Harry answers, irritated. He's even more arrogant than Draco, and Harry didn't think that was possible. He tosses Tom a challenging look and then turns away, but Tom's hand on his arm stops him. Tom pulls him back, and Harry feels his whole body heat up at the strength of his grip, of the power in his hands.

"You’d even say no to just a kiss on the cheek?" Tom asks, leaning in, looming over Harry. Harry's mouth dries. He should pull away. They're standing far too close than appropriate.

"Yes," he says.

"Really?" Tom asks, shifting them both, pushing. Harry's back hits the balcony and his breath hitches, his eyes wide as he stares up Tom. Tom's arms lock him in on either side and Harry's jaw tightens, his whole body following suit. "Just an innocent kiss to the cheek? You would say no to that?"

"Innocent?" Harry asks in disbelief. "You don't strike me as the type."

Tom's smile is a devious thing. He leans in, his body pressing up against Harry's and Harry is frozen, unable to speak. "It's the same thing the French do, yes? A little kiss on the cheek to say goodbye."

"I...no," he says weakly. It doesn't sound convincing even to his own ears.

"I'll leave after if that's what you want," Tom continues, ignoring him, and Harry's lips part. He ducks his head, his hands clenching on the balcony behind him as he desperately tries to ground himself on the smooth stone. "A kiss goodbye, as the French do."

Harry licks his lips.

"Go on then," he says, voice hushed in between them.

Harry has just enough time to see Tom's smile turn triumphant, before Tom leans in and brushes his lips over Harry's cheek, warm and firm. The scent of him surrounds Harry, and he can't help but close his eyes, inhaling even as Tom pulls away.

"Both cheeks, right?" Tom murmurs. Harry's eyelids flutter open, his cheeks flushed. He looks up and says nothing. Tom leans in then and presses another kiss to Harry's cheek, slower this time, his lips lingering.

He doesn't pull away, pressing another kiss to the same cheek, lower this time. And then another, slow and sensual, to the corner of his mouth.

"Hey," Harry protests, tilting his head back, just a little breathless. His heart is racing in his chest and he's finding it harder to breathe. "That isn't what we agreed."

Tom chuckles, pressing their cheeks together. The heat of his body against Harry's is burning him up from the inside out.

"Well," Tom says, breath hot against his ear as he nuzzles Harry's hair. "I've already almost kissed you. A real one won't hurt, will it?"

"I don't know," Harry shifts against him. He's achingly hard in his pants, just from those brief kisses, already so fucking turned on from practically nothing. "My boyfriend wouldn't..."

Tom pulls away, his lips ghosting over Harry’s until they’re sharing breath, the heat between them intense, daunting.

"He'd already be angry," Tom murmurs reasonably. "A waste of an argument over what amounts to just kisses on the cheek, don't you think? They don't even count."

"I..." Harry says, licking his dry lips. Did they count? "Okay," he breathes.

Tom closes the distance between them, a soft touch of lips before he pulls away, and Harry almost chases after him. He swallows, his eyes half-lidded as he looks up at Tom, panting.

“Another?” Tom asks quietly.

“Yes,” Harry whispers.

Tom doesn't waste a second, pressing their lips back together.

The hand at the back of Harry's neck goes up to his hair and pulls, tilting his head back. Harry moans in shocked arousal, his lips parting, and Tom quickly takes advantage, tongue claiming his mouth, kiss turning impossibly heated. There's nothing left of the slow, tentative way he had first kissed Harry's cheeks and his lips.

He shoves Harry up against the balcony even harder, pressing in, and Harry can feel Tom's own length hard in his pants. He slots an insistent leg in between Harry's thighs, his free hand cupping Harry's ass and pulling him closer, rutting against him. His kiss turns savage now as he bites down, tongues, lips, and teeth meeting. Harry makes an embarrassingly loud noise of pleasure against Tom's mouth.

He pulls away and tilts his head back, using one hand to brace himself against the balcony, the other to grip the back of Tom's coat. Tom tilts his head to nip at his throat, his jaw, and little gasps escape Harry then, his eyes squeezing shut in pleasure.

Tom reaches down between them, unbuttoning Harry's pants, and reality comes rushing back.

"Wait, Tom," Harry moans, reluctant. It takes everything in him to pull Tom away, but even then it's only far enough for Tom's delicious mouth to part from Harry's neck. "Tom, we can't."

"Shh," Tom soothes. His pupils are blown wide, his lips swollen, and Harry can only imagine how he looks. He doesn't stop, and Harry's hands are trapped, unable to do anything as Tom reaches in with his clever fingers and pulls out Harry's cock. "I just want to feel you."

"Tom." Harry wavers, his toes curling, pleasure tingling down his spine as Tom begins to stroke. His legs part, even as he says, "We shouldn't."

"Please?" Tom breathes, leaning in to press a hot kiss against his cheek and Harry groans. He says nothing, only spreads his legs wider, and Tom smirks against his jaw.

He doesn't stop Tom this time when Tom pushes his pants down, exposing him to the cool night air. All he can think about is the way Tom's jerks him off, a twist to his wrist at the upstroke that sends Harry's hips thrusting uselessly into Tom's fist. He groans, helpless to it, even as guilt and shame filled him.

This is the farthest thing from a simple kiss to the cheek, and Harry squirms, uncomfortably aroused at the thought of how Draco would react if he were to see them.

When Tom's fingers brush against his ass, Harry jolts and whimpers, pulling away.

"Tom," he warns, and Tom shushes him again, cupping his ass and spreading it. His fingers brush against Harry's hole, dry and firm, but every press is enough to make Harry's knees weak, his mouth falling open. "Oh, god, Tom."

"Just a couple fingers; it's the same as a handjob," Tom murmurs, hot against his ear. He presses a kiss to Harry's slack mouth and Harry moans, hips bucking, but he only succeeds in thrusting against Tom's loose grip around his cock.

With a murmured spell, Tom's fingers come back slick. They tease against Harry's ass, and then slowly, finally, he presses in. Harry's head falls forward and he buries his groan into the skin where Tom's neck meets his shoulder, mouthing at it.

"Tom," he whines. "This isn't... We shouldn't..."

"It's already inside," Tom laughs. He forces Harry's legs apart even wider, stroking Harry's cock again at the same time he pushes his finger in, deeper this time.

He brushes against Harry's prostate and Harry’s shocked moan feels as if it's punched out of him, his cock twitching as he bites down on Tom's shoulder to muffle it.

Tom's relentless now, pressing inside, stretching him open as he rubs, and shockwaves travel all the way down to the tips of his toes at every pass over the nub inside him.

"Can I fuck you?" Tom asks against his hair, breathing labored.

"No," Harry says immediately, even as he clenches around Tom's fingers. It's too much, and not enough, but Harry knows that this is one line he shouldn't cross. He's already cheating, but actually fucking feels unforgivable.

"Just a bit," Tom promises. "You feel so good, darling. I just want to know how you feel around my cock."

" _No_ ," Harry says again, but Tom presses down hard, and it dissolves into a useless moan. Fuck, he's so close. Harry's hips buck, his cock twitching, his eyes squeezing shut. Little gasps escape him with every twist of Tom's hand, each pass of his fingers over Harry's prostate bringing him closer and closer to the edge. His balls draw up, a groan rumbling through his chest, and Harry's mouth falls open as—

Tom stops, and Harry _sobs_ , crying out, hips jerking.

"Tom!" Harry cries, but Tom only smiles at him, cruel, uncaring. "Please, I'm so close."

"Can I fuck you?" Tom asks again, and Harry can't help but whine now, legs falling open.

"I can't, we can't," he babbles and Tom pulls away, his fingers slipping out, the loss of them leaving Harry needy and empty, aching for anything, everything. Harry keens lowly, his back arching, his hole clenching around nothing.

"Just the tip?" Harry asks, breathless, giving up. Tears rim his eyes. "You promise?"

"Turn over," Tom says, pulling away, and Harry obeys, his eyes squeezed shut and his head ducked in shame. His cock is painfully hard. His elbows land on the hard, unforgiving rock of the balcony, his pose reminiscent of his earlier position before Tom had arrived, and Tom pushes his legs apart.

Tom leans in, his chest pressing up against Harry's back, his cock brushing over Harry's hole.

"Look," he murmurs into Harry's ear, and Harry looks up and out into the Malfoy Gardens, full now with finely-dressed men and women. Harry hadn't even noticed.

"Oh god," he chokes.

"Do you see your boyfriend?" Tom asks, and Harry's gaze passes over the crowd of people mingling in the Gardens, his throat tight. Tom presses in, just the head of his cock breaching Harry's hole, not any deeper, and Harry groans, clenching around it. It's not enough, but the stretch of his ass around it is wonderful, thicker than Tom's fingers.

"Yes," Harry whispers, his eyes caught on the platinum blonde of Draco's hair. He's talking to some people Harry doesn't know, and the guilt is renewed in his chest. Tom makes a move to press in deeper but Harry's hand flies out, gripping his thigh and stopping him. "You said just the tip."

"Yes," Tom agrees. He pulls out and rubs Harry's rim which must be red now from the earlier abuse, and then he pushes in again, slow and shallow. Harry takes him in easily, his hole greedy and clenching.

"That's it," Harry says, breathless. He reaches down to stroke his own cock but Tom immediately stops him, pinning his hand to his side.

"No," Tom says, voice rough. "You get off on my cock or not at all."

Harry whimpers and presses his head down on the balcony but Tom pinches his side, tone hard, "And I want you to look at your boyfriend."

"You're an asshole," Harry gasps, but he looks up nonetheless, shame hot in his chest as he looks at Draco, so far away, yet entirely too near. His cock is harder than ever, throbbing now, and Harry is desperate to come.

Tom pulls out and pushes in again, still painfully shallow but deep enough that it brushes against Harry's prostate, a hint of more. Harry whines, canting his hips back, bearing down, and Tom's cock slips in deeper inside of him, finally nudging that spot in him.

Tom laughs. "That was all you," he says, and Harry flinches. Tom pulls out and then thrusts back in, hard now, forcing himself in deeper, fucking Harry open. Harry gasps, back arching, his mouth slack. Fuck. This was the farthest thing from just the tip.

"If you want it so bad, you should just say," Tom says, amused. "Don't be too loud though, darling, anyone can hear you."

"Fuck you," Harry snaps, and he knows that it's entirely on him when he thrusts back against Tom, shoving his ass back, fucking himself onto Tom's cock like a desperate whore. Each inch of it entering him feels like another circle in hell, so wrong but still so fucking hot, and it's all Harry's fault.

"Oh, no," Tom says, cruel, pulling away just as Harry tries to get his dick deeper inside of him, and Harry lets out a choked, desperate sound. "I promised you just the tip, didn't I? If you want more you have to beg for it."

It takes only a final, shallow, teasing thrust from Tom for Harry to break.

“Please,” he chokes out. “ _Please_.”

Tom takes a moment to grab Harry’s hair and pull, forcing his head up, Harry’s spine arching, before he _moves_.

Harry’s mouth drops open, a silent scream escaping him as finally, finally, Tom bottoms out inside him, his full length and thickness fucking into Harry with each hard thrust. He slams into Harry’s prostate and Harry spasms, his grip tightening on the balcony, his eyes squeezing shut.

Loud moans escape him, and fuck, anyone can hear, anyone can _see_. But Tom’s grip on his hair is unforgiving, and Harry can’t do anything to muffle his moans of pleasure, the sounds of it spilling out into the open air without his permission.

Harry’s covered elbows skid over the stone, and it’s only Tom’s hand on his waist, bruising, that’s keeping his hips from slamming into the balcony.

Tom reaches around and pulls, once, twice, his grip tight and rough and Harry’s eyes fly open, a strangled scream escaping him.

Draco looks up then, their eyes meeting, and—

Harry comes.

”Fuck,” Harry whimpers, his legs trembling. Stunned. Horrified.

And then Draco looks away, his eyes passing over Harry, no change in his expression as he continues to chat with his colleagues.

Behind him, Tom laughs. “You’re sweet,” he croons, fucking him slower now. “Don’t worry, there’s a Notice-Me-Not on us.”

" _Fuck_ ," Harry repeats with a moan, closing his eyes, shuddering with relief, almost collapsing right then and there. He presses his head onto the balcony and almost sobs when Tom picks up his pace. His tiny, hitched moans of pleasure are muffled into his arms.

He doesn't do anything to stop Tom anymore, not even when Tom's thrusts turn jerky, uncontrolled, until he finally comes with a soft groan inside of Harry.

 

*

 

Harry dresses up quietly, his face still hot with shame as he does up his pants. He can feel the evidence of their encounter leaking down his thigh and he shudders, half turned on, half disgusted at himself.

Tom doesn't need to do much. He only tucks himself back in and does up his pants, and he looks as perfect as he did when he first came in the balcony.

"It was nice meeting you," Tom says, smirking. Harry avoids his eyes, still stunned at how far everything has escalated in the past few minutes. The shock of meeting his boyfriend's eyes, Tom's laughter and finding out Draco hadn't really seen him at all has made him numb. And sore. "You should go back to your boyfriend."

"Yes," Harry says. He clears his throat and looks away before he hurriedly brushes past Tom, face hot. He doesn't know what possesses him to go down the flight the stairs, out the ballroom and into the Gardens, but he does, and there Draco is.

"Where have you been?" Draco hisses, and Harry swallows, eyes downcast. He can't bring himself to meet Draco's eyes.

"Just needed to be alone."

Draco takes it at face value, thankfully, and straightens up. He's far too preoccupied with his night's goals to notice anything off with Harry right now.

"I need to introduce you to someone," Draco says, and Harry nods. He doesn't argue when Draco takes his hand and drags him back into the ballroom.

"Sir," Draco calls out, his voice taking on an imperious tone and he reaches back to touch Harry's waist, exactly where Tom had held him earlier, pulling Harry to his side. Harry's ass clenches, still sore and wet, dripping with Tom's come, and his face burns.

"This is Harry, my partner," Draco says. Harry looks up then, resigned, and he freezes. Tom smirks at him. "Harry, this is my boss, Tom Riddle."

"Nice to meet you," Tom says, and winks.

**Author's Note:**

> ty ty so much to the people who encouraged me during the livewrite, and to RedHorse for being an amazing, wonderful beta <333
> 
> -[my tumblr](exarite.tumblr.com)  
> -did u click on this fic bcos a) the tags b) tomarry smut or c) other reasons ? pls share  
> -also, people asked for a sequel on this, and it probably won't happen, but check the comments down below for a 'just the tip' of a sequel 😂  
> -EDIT: AAAAH pls read Between Two Hands by SolitaryEngel, a fic/sequel inspired by this. It’s amazing and I wholeheartedly recommend it!!! (But pls read the tags before u do so)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Between Two Hands](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20116351) by [SolitaryEngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolitaryEngel/pseuds/SolitaryEngel)




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